The Dragon Born
by Eaving1989
Summary: Tamriel teeters on the tip of a blade. The Emperor and his sons have been murdered and Daedra spill forth. One woman, chosen by the Nine can stop what destruction threatens. Kerrin thinks she can succeed, but can she resist a force greater than any Daerda


**The Dragon Born**

Prologue: Fire Night

…o.o\0v0/o.o…

It was the twelfth watch of the night and all was silent in the Temple of Akatosh.

Torches burned quietly in their sconces and thousands of candles flickered like an earthbound sea of stars, placed by the altar-well in prayer by the faithful peoples of Kvatch. High above the great grey stone arches loomed through the darkness, all heavily engraved with the images of Akatosh and his fellow gods. Set high in the walls were the arched windows, each a masterpiece of coloured glass, bearing an image of one of the Nine and filling the temple with a soft coloured glow.

Kneeling upon the steps of the altar-well was Brother Martin, strong shoulders straight beneath his priests robe, but no other. His head was bent, brown hair obscuring his face. Tonight was his watch over Akatosh's altar. The greatest of the Nine had demanded in his holy writings that one of his priests always be watchful, ready to combat whatever evils lurked in the world of men. Martin, of course, was always ready to serve his god.

He murmured a prayer and shifted slightly on his knees, easing the pain that was slowly gnawing at his lower back. The stones were hard and cold beneath their velvet, yet he was not one to complain. For a servant of Akatosh pain and piety came hand in hand. He smoothed the blue woollen robe ever his knees and genuflected before slowly rising to his feet. Martin was no stranger to these nightly watches, many times he welcomed the peace and time to think, yet this was different.

The lancets of the Temple were thrown open to allow a breeze to circulate, yet there was none, especially unusual considering Kvatch's position atop a range of sprawling lowland hills. There were no noises from outside. No night birds called, no wolves howled from the plains below, no footsteps of the city guards… it seemed tonight Kvatch was quieter than the catacombs beneath Martin's feet.

Uncertain of this night and unsure of the feeling of danger curdling his stomach Martin moved to relight the few candles that had sputtered out. Normally his magic would be more than enough to light the meagre candles, yet every time he wove the spell that created fire nothing happened. He tried one last time, drawing upon his magic and muttering the incantation for fire, his hand outstretched and ready to receive the blue fireball. Still nothing happened.

The candles exploded into flame.

Wicks and hot wax flew in every direction; Martin fell backwards raising his arms to protect himself. Spires of flames remained where candles had once stood, the magical fires rising to the very roof. Healing the burns along his arms Martin scrambled to his feet, crying out for his fellow priests. In passing he banged on the wooden door of the sleeping quarters to awaken his brothers. He ran to the Temple's main doors pushing them open with an effort.

What he saw beyond chilled his very soul.

The night sky was the colour of fresh blood, the clouds turned to flame. Along the walls of Kvatch Martin could see the city guard, bows drawn and raining arrows down the other side. From beyond the walls he could see several of what looked like walls of liquid flame, strangely iridescent. Portals… his Mages Guild education told him. But portals to what?

The main town square, at the feet of the church was filled with terrified townsfolk, some bleeding and injured. Houses exploded without warning, the magical flamed melting the very stone.

"By Akatosh!" Martin breathed, taken aback by the scene before him.

"Brother Martin!" one townswoman cried, raising a bleeding hand in supplication, "Help us please!"

Martin ran down the Temple steps two at a time, joining the worried townsfolk and healing the most grievously injured. Their injuries worried him; some were slashes, like animal claws and others were made by obvious weapons. All babbled about the 'burning monsters' and 'flaming devils'. Confused and more than a little terrified Martin helped who he could, keeping them away from the exploding buildings and safe in the open of the village green.

There was an unintelligible cry behind him and Martin turned to see Brother Ilav Dalgoner pulling on his robe while bounding down the stairs. Martin hailed his brother priest, his raised hand falling limp as he saw what arose behind the Temple. It was like the other portals, yet massive in size.

"What is going on, Martin?" Ilav cried, clutching at Martin's arm.

"I do not know, Brother. But we must see the people to safety."

Ilav nodded, the red lights of the numerous fires making the man seem older than he was. "I will take some down to the plains, Martin. Kvatch is under attack and large groups will attract attention."

"I will stay behind with those who would hide within the Temple." Martin volunteered. Ilav looked ready to argue, and then grudgingly acquiesced.

"You are braver than you think." Ilav murmured.

Ilav turned to address the frightened townspeople. Martin was glad to let him do so. He was never one for speeches; he preferred his scrolls and prayer. While Ilav divided up the survivors Martin surveyed the ruins of the town. Houses were toppled and burning; half the town's walls were already down. Martin could see creatures scaling the rubble, their cries ethereal and bone-chilling. Here and there were town guards struggling to fight the onslaught of demons. Martin could recognise and name each of the daedra that were advancing through the town from the portals. There were clanfears, scamps, demora and flame atronaches. These must be the 'burning devils' the townspeople had spoken of.

"Ilav! It's time to get the people out of here. Go now! Out the main gate!" Martin gently pushed the older man in his earnest. Ilav nodded, his eyes wide in terror as he could see the ranks of advancing daedroth beyond the Temple.

"Akatosh guide you, Brother!" Ilav said in farewell, then turned and shepherded his few townsfolk towards Kvatch's main gate.

Martin motioned his survivors towards the temple, but was thrown down as the ground trembled violently. As soon as he was down Martin tried to stand upright, belt knife in hand. The daedra were closer, but not close enough to do any damage.

"Get to the Temple!" he cried at his charges above the roar of the destruction. The people scrambled and screamed, their terror at the advancing daedra banishing what sense they had. Martin picked up one man and threw him bodily towards the Temple.

"Get inside!" he bellowed, and this time it seemed to reach them. The people moved once again, faster now that they truly saw what was behind them.

Martin held open the Temple door as they rushed in, keeping an eye on the daedra lines. Further on he could see Savlian Martius and a small group of guards leading more townsfolk towards the main gate and fighting off what daedra they could. Savlian noticed Martin standing upon the Temple steps and looked ready to come towards him but Martin waved him on. With a brief pause Savlian looked to debate and then moved on, leaving Martin alone in the ruins of Kvatch, surrounded by a hoard of daedra.

Using his magic he kept back those daedra who came to close, and soon the stench of fried clanfear joined with that of the burning town. The ground shook once again, and there were noises, so loud they drowned out anything else, coming from the massive portal behind the Temple. Martin rushed across the Temple steps to catch a look at what was making such noise.

From the great portal poured thousands of daedra, and something far more terrifying. Martin had never read of its like before. It moved like a crab or spider, armoured legs along each side. At its head was a great gapping maw, filled with flames and rows upon rows of moving, razor-like teeth. Armoured demora swarmed around the things many legs, all beating their weapons against their shield in time with the steps of the beast. They raised their voices in hellish chorus and for the second time this night Martin's soul quailed.

The armies of Oblivion had spilled forth.

He prayed fervently as he watched, transfixed by the gleam of hell before him. Then, as demonic arrows were placed in bows and aimed at him, he moved back inside the Temple.

May the Nine preserve them all from the hell that awaited them outside the Temple walls.

…o.o\0v0/o.o…

**A/N: **Ooooooh, dramatic. I had always wondered what the siege of Kvatch would be like and here is my impression, if rather short. This is my first foray into the Oblivion fandom, so please, be gentle! Lol. Anyway, enjoy this little titbit and keep your eyes peeled for more chapters that will be coming very soon.


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